by Adam Drake
And if they didn't, Prenick knew of a necromancer who would buy them in bulk. His experiments resulted in a high turnaround and was always in need of fodder for his dark arts.
Prenick would make money on this trip, but how much depended on the results of the final raid.
A shout from the cave entrance drew their attention. A warrior ran toward them through the cages.
“Someone is returning!” The warrior said.
Wesher looked eagerly to Prenick. “What do you think, old slaver? Fighters and females?”
Prenick chuckled. “I'll take either.”
They hurried through the cave, passing cages with newly acquired stock. Some of those imprisoned whined or begged to be let go, but their pleading fell on deaf ears. Mercy was not the pech way.
At the entrance Prenick found a small number of his crew had arrived. Kneeling on the ground before them, arms bound behind their backs, were four goblins. They were small and pathetic to look at. Worse, they were worthless.
Prenick frowned and glared at one of the pech who brought them in. “This is what you bring back to me? Goblins?”
“My apologize, Lord. But we were sent to sweep the southern part of the valley, away from the main camp. This was all we could find.”
The goblins cowered together. Recognizing Prenick as the leader, they started to jabber at him in their ugly language. They cried like infants, snot dribbling down their faces.
Wesher stepped forward and jabbed the nearest one with his stick. The electric shock caused the little being to gasp in pain then pitch forward to the ground. The others went quiet.
Prenick was annoyed. If there was one race of beings that was most despised in the world it was goblins. He may have espoused the virtues that all slaves were worth something, but these wretched creatures weren't even to be considered worthy fodder for auction. His annoyance turned to anger.
Sensing this, Wesher spoke up. “This is a waste of time. Did you use stun stones on them?”
“Y-yes, Lord,” the pech said. His expression showed he knew of his mistake. “But there wasn't anything else out there. Not one being. Just these.”
Prenick sighed and rubbed at his chin. “So you wasted stones as well as your time.” It was a statement, not a question. The crew's supply of sharded stones was dwindling fast. The extended time in the valley ensured that their ability to harvest slaves was becoming less and less effective. Pech commanded no magic of any kind. They even lacked a mana pool that the gods blessed on all others. Without sharded stones, they were reduced to mundane weapons and tactics to catch slaves. Slaves, who themselves, commanded magic.
He decided not to waste any more energy on the matter. “Put them down,” he said. “Swords only. Killing these with stones would be sacrilege.” For the pech, freeing slaves was unthinkable. Execution was the best means to get rid of unwanted stock.
In moments the mewling cries of the goblins went silent. Prenick noticed the slaves in the nearby cages go still with fear. Good. Let them see what could happen.
“What of the main raiding group?” Prenick asked the other pech.
“Once we were sent south, we saw them heading to the human's main camp.”
“It was still raining?”
“Yes, Lord.”
The cover of rain was a good omen at the beginning of a raid, helping to mask their approach. Perhaps the gods were starting to favor his crew again.
A shout from outside drew their attention.
“They've returned,” Wesher said. “Fighters and females.”
“Fighters and females,” Prenick said and followed him out of the cave.
The valley beyond the mountain was growing dark as night descended upon it. The first stars revealed themselves above as if to chase away the last of the day. It had been the slaver's hunting ground for several weeks and he would be glad to finally take his leave of this place. But could he?
Just beyond the cave entrance, the forest formed a dark wall. From within, bobbing in and around the trees, were lights from glow sticks carried by his raiders.
A member of the defense picket said, “It looks to be a big haul, Lord.”
Prenick squinted. It did look like they were bringing several slaves with them, most bound by their arms, some carried.
As the first of the group arrived and filed past into the cave, Prenick nodded his approval at each crew member. He also assessed each slave in turn, but couldn't see anything better than the ones inside.
“A sallow batch,” he mumbled. The return on his investment was looking to be worse than he feared. He followed the last into the cave. As the slaves were assembled in groups for appraisal, he looked each over again.
The raid leader, Dorben, approached. The pech's pale face was grim. “Lord, we have returned victorious.”
“But?”
“But we lost three warriors.”
Three?! Prenick did his best not to look too shocked. Fatalities and injuries were to be expected on raids, but with such a sad group of prospects in the valley, he didn't think anyone in his crew would be killed.
“How?”
Dorben pointed a stun stick at a large muscular human with wild red hair and beard. “This one put an axe into Kordin's skull before we could subdue him. He has a lot of fight in him.”
“Does he, now?”
The bearded human, although on his knees, was nearly as tall as the pech standing next to him. His shirt was torn and his white skin showed many shock stick burn marks.
A fighter, he thought. If not now, the pits will make him into one. Maybe this trip wasn't a complete waste.
“And the other two lost?” he asked Dorben.
“Killed by lightning.”
Prenick's forehead wrinkled in surprise. If pech had eyebrows, they would have crawled halfway up his skull. “Lightning? Sharded or cast?”
“Cast, Lord,” Dorben said, happy to see Prenick's interest. The raid leader pointed at one of the kneeling humans.
Prenick stepped closer to him. The human had his arms bound behind him, as well as a metal bit in his mouth, to keep him from casting spells. He wore a large billowy gray robe, and his silver hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Clasped around his throat was a draining collar pech used on beings with higher magic. It continually sapped the wearer of their mana.
Prenick looked the human over. His mana pool was deep although the collar kept it at zero. “What do we have here,” he said, intrigued. If there was one thing that sold better than fighters and females, it was mages or beings of high magic – provided they could be controlled.
“He was wearing these,” Dorben said, holding a cluster of amulets. Prenick took one.
You have taken an item: Amulet of Mana
Durability: 30/30
Required Intelligence: 45
+50 Mana
Value: 100 gold pieces
For a few moments, Prenick stared at the amulet, lost in thought. Then he locked eyes with the silver haired human who looked appropriately terrified.
The slaver lord leaned forward. “Do you understand our language, magic-man?”
The man's eyes told him he didn't.
Prenick reached over and unclasped the metal bit in his mouth. He didn't have to fear that this human could harm anyone with spells as long as the collar was on him.
Free of the bit, the human coughed and spit onto the cave floor. “By the Many Hells that tastes awful! Where have you been keeping that thing, under your sweaty armor?”
With a mental effort, Prenick switched to the common tongue. “You do not speak pech?”
The human looked surprised to be spoken to in his own language. “Uh, no. No I don't. Why would I? The only thing worth telling a pech slaver in his own tongue is to bugger off!”
Prenick leaned back and chuckled. This one had fight in him, too. “You cast lightning, yes? Kill my crew?”
The human looked indignant, his eyes growing wider. “Yes, I killed them. Fried them to a crisp as they shrieke
d like violated sheep.”
“Sage!” The red-haired human hissed. He didn't have a bit in his mouth as his mana pool was too small to be a concern. But that didn't mean he couldn't be silenced.
Prenick gave a small nod, and a pech jabbed a shock stick into the red giant's side. The human groaned through gritted teeth and fell over.
To the silver-haired human Prenick said, “Name.”
“Name?”
“What is your name? Don't try my patience, magic-man.”
The human glanced at the red giant spasming on the ground next to him. “Saif. My name is Saif.”
“Are you a battle-mage?”
“What? No, of course not. And it's too bad I'm not, or you and your entire cohort of dungholes would be crushed by a meteor shower or shrunk down and thrown into a cave spider's web.”
Prenick was used to being cursed out by slaves. In the beginning was when they tried their hardest to get away, to stand up against the pech. But soon, they fell into place, like all beings did.
The slave lord motioned at the two dozen other humans kneeling in the dirt. “These are your people? You lead them?”
“No, I do not. King Robert Barron of Anika does. He is our lord.”
“Robert?”
Mentioning his king seemed to strengthen the little man's courage. “Yes, he is our king. And when he learns of our kidnapping, he will hunt you down and kill you all!”
Prenick chuckled again. “He is not your king.”
“Yes, he is!”
“This is your king, now,” Prenick unlashed the stun stick at his hip and poked it against the stomach of the human, keeping it at half-charge.
The human called Saif grimaced in agony, and pitched forward, but the pech next to him kept him up.
“The red one called you Sage. Are you?”
After taking a few moments to compose himself, Saif managed to sputter out, “Yes. I am First Sage to the King.”
Prenick chuckled. “King of what, now? We've been raiding your valley for weeks and we've seen nothing there worth ruling over, let alone being called a kingdom.”
“He'll come for us. And it will be the end of all of you,” Saif said, but the words sounded hollow to Prenick.
The slave lord turned to Dorben and spoke in pech. “Did you see this man-king?”
“No, Lord. Once the camp was cleared, no one appeared to challenge us.”
Prenick sniffed. He doubted this king was a threat if his subjects were anything to measure him by. Still, once their way out of the valley was cleared, he'd be sure to post a rearguard.
He spoke to Saif in common, again. “I'm going to give you a test, magic-man.”
“Test? What sort of test?” Sweat beaded on the little man's brow.
“A test to see if you're worth keeping or leaving behind.” Prenick nodded to the row of dead goblins along the far cave wall and the Sage blanched, much to his satisfaction.
“O-okay,” Saif said, looking worried.
“Release his bindings,” Prenick said.
A pech pulled the human to his feet and freed his arms. Saif rubbed his hands together, trying to get their circulation back.
“Now his collar,” Prenick said.
The pech next to Saif paused for a moment at the request, then did as he was told, removing the mana sapping collar from the human's throat.
“Give him back his amulets,” Prenick said to Dorben who barely hesitated before giving them to Saif.
After the human had donned his amulets Prenick handed him a Quick Mana Potion. “Drink this,” he said.
Saif's eyes lit up as he took the flask then eagerly quaffed it. Instantly, he was at full mana.
Prenick stared at him. “Now you are fully capable of casting that lightning at me, or any of us for that matter. I don't doubt you'd kill some of us, too. But what would happen after?”
“You'd kill me,” Saif said.
“Fry the bastard, Sage!” The red bearded man hissed from the ground. A stun stick sent him into a paralyzed state.
Prenick grinned. “Correct. You would die. Then we'd kill all the rest of your people, too.”
The slave lord watched the Sage until the human turned his eyes away. Good.
“You will use your lightning for me, but not here.” He nodded, and a pech took Saif by the arm.
Wesher looked concerned. “Are you playing games with this one?”
“No,” Prenick said, slightly annoyed to have his motives questioned, but he let it pass. “I believe this human has the ability to solve an immediate problem for us.” His second in command's eyes widened when he realized what he meant.
They moved back through the cavern, Prenick leading the small group with Saif being guided by two pech. Other warriors followed close behind, sticks in hand.
Humans in cages pressed forward when they saw the Sage. Some reached out to touch him, or called his name. The pech swatted at them, threatening to shock or stun whoever didn't obey.
Saif's eyes were wide with horror at seeing his fellow valley folk imprisoned and Prenick felt a small pang of enjoyment from this.
One small male human shouted loudly as they passed by. “Saif! It's me!”
“Erwin?” Saif said, surprised. “I thought you escaped.”
“No such luck,” Erwin said, his eyes welling with tears.
Seeing this exchange, Prenick held up his hand. “Stop,” he said and pointed at the caged human. “Bring this one.”
The human named Erwin was unchained and pulled from his cage. A pech skilfully bound his arms behind him.
“Why bring him?” Saif said to Prenick as they resumed their walk, but the slave lord ignored the question.
At the rear of the large cavern chamber was a small tunnel that led deeper in the mountain. When they initially discovered it, Prenick was thrilled at the potential path through the mountainside the Trogs hadn't blockaded. But his excitement didn't last long.
They entered the tunnel, its walls naturally studded with glow rocks and crystals. After a dozen paces Prenick stopped the group, and he motioned for Saif to be brought forward.
With the Sage standing next to him, he pointed ahead. “Do you see that, magic-man?”
Saif looked and his eyes widened comically.
About twenty paces ahead, the tunnel was clogged up from floor to ceiling with a murky green substance, like a jelly or goo. As they watched, the jelly shifted about like a living thing.
“An ooze!” Saif said, horrified.
Prenick scowled at the thing that blocked the tunnel. Oozes were a tunnel-goers nightmare, and here one sat obstructing the only easy transit for his crew through the mountain. Initially, his crew tried torching it, but with little effect. Shock sticks also just made it aggressive, so they'd left it alone.
To be certain it didn't emerge from the tunnel and swallow up all the caged stock, he'd posted a guard at the tunnel entrance. For weeks nothing happened. The thing seemed content to sit there and wait.
Prenick knew getting through this tunnel would cut their return time by a day if not more. But he and his pech warriors lacked the magical ability to deal with the thing. Until now.
He looked at the human. “The ooze is highly susceptible to electrical damage. Use your lighting to destroy it. If you don't I will have your Erwin companion fed to it.”
Saif tore his eyes away from the unholy monster to stare at Prenick. “But its hit points are insane. It's an Elite!”
Prenick knew this and removed a blue bracelet from his pouch, placing it onto the human's.
“Plus 30% Critical Hit,” Saif said, the stress in his voice slightly eased.
“That should be enough,” Prenick said, growing impatient.
“And if it isn't?”
“Pray you have enough mana to cast more,” Prenick said, then pointed again at the shifting ooze.
Saif raised his hands before him and took a deep breath.
The next instant arcs of lightning exploded from his fingertips
and crackled down the tunnel. The bolts danced over the surface of the ooze and caused its inner translucent depths to glow and spark.
The terrible creature thrashed within the confines of the tunnel, like a living wall. Where the lightning touched, its jelly-like substance turned dark and solidified into crumbling stone.
Prenick smiled as he watched the ooze die. But the creature suddenly shifted and its huge mass moved toward them.